


The Wonder Years

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bullied Sam Winchester, Bullying, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Derogatory Language, F/M, Gen, Growing Pains, High School, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, POV Sam Winchester, Pre-Series, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is a Saint, Sam Winchester is a nerd, Sam is 16, Teenage Sam Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, dean is 20, sam wants to be normal, sam winchester doesn't want to hunt, sam winchester is bullied, sam winchester is kind, sam winchester is short, sam winchester likes to read, sam winchester loves quantum leap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 08:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18192356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sixteen-year-old Sam Winchester just wants to be normal and well, isn't it normal to be bullied?





	The Wonder Years

_"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times-"_

"I swear, Sammy, one more Shakespeare quote and I'm gonna strangle ya."

I laughed, looking up from the old laptop that rested on the busted motel kitchen table, its screen so very close to falling asleep like a small child. I was trying to write an essay for school and I guess I talked when I typed sometimes.

"It's Dickens, stupid!" I laughed, moving the mouse a little.

"Um, yeah, sure whatever. Just shut up, mkay?"

Dean had the TV on and was watching Dawson's Creek, mostly because he hated that show and that Dad was five feet away packing for a hunt which meant Dean couldn't watch porn. It was a pretty terrible show, but it wasn't like he was in it for the plot if you know what I mean.

"I'll be back in two weeks. _Watch him_ ," Dad said to Dean, ignoring me. We had just fought over school and he thought I was at flight risk like the last time we fought. I wasn't, only because he was leaving. I didn't leave without prompt when it was just Dean and me. Never.

"You know I will."

Dad didn't say anything, he just gave me a stern look. I looked up from the keyboard and saluted sarcastically which just soured his expression even more.

"Behave yourself, Sam."

"Yes Sir."

Dad looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just opened the door and left, not looking back at either of us.

"Man, you would think I told him I wanted to become a hooker or something," I said.

"You'd make an _awful_ hooker," Dean said, switching the channel quickly.

"Thanks Dean. Enjoy your porn."

He didn't reply and it wasn't like I even really wanted him to, so I put my headphones into the laptop's jack and tried to focus on the essay. It was due tomorrow, which meant I had to hurry up so I could run to the library and print it before they closed. The library (lucky me) was in walking distance from the crappy motel room we were living in at the moment. It wasn't the worst setup we've ever had, but it definitely wasn't the Hiltons either.

I hated moving around so much. I'd been to seven high schools so far, and I knew that once Dad came back we would have to pack up our duffels and move on, leaving everyone and everything behind. I justed wanted a normal home, with both a mom and a dad. I wished Dad had a normal job, and that we had a house. I wished Dean was able to go to college (even if he didn't seem like the type to really want to) and I wished Mom was alive. If Mom was alive my life would've been normal. And maybe John Winchester would have been more like John Walton.

I shook off my thoughts, looking back at the laptop screen. I only had a paragraph. I could handle this. Dean was... occupied, so I didn't have to worry about him bothering me and the library didn't close for another two hours according to the library card I had gotten the minute we step foot in this tiny town. My fingers ran rapidly across the keyboard, not stopping until I had finished the very last sentence. I smiled, reading it over quickly. Yes, this would do perfectly.

"Hey Dean, I gotta go print this essay."

Dean shut the TV off, looking over. "I'll drive. We need to pick up dinner anyway, so we'll multitask."

"Wow, that's one of the only intelligent things to ever come out of your mouth," I smirked.

Dean knocked me upside the head. "Buzz off, nerd. Get your jacket."

I did, pulling the burnt orange colored coat over my red flannel and Led-Zeppelin shirt that Dean had gave me after he outgrew it. All my clothes were hand-me-downs, really, except my sneakers because my feet were bigger than Dean's. I shoved my room key into the front pocket of my worn jeans along with my library card and shut the PC, wrapping my arms around it like it was a security blanket or something.

"Let's lock n' load, Sammy. I'm starved."

"Yeah, jacking off really must take a lot outta ya."

Dean glared, but it wasn't like Dad's glares. It was a joke one. 

"I'll let you walk your ass, but I'm a good big brother so I won't."

I got in shotgun, buckling up. I was the only person who ever buckled up in this car. It wasn't like I was particularly concerned for my safety, I just didn't want Dean to get pulled over or something.

We sped out of the parking lot filled with chipped asphalt and potholes, Metallica blasting through the speakers at an ungodly volume. My ears were trained to just block out most loud sounds at this point. Dean drove like a bat outta hell into the library parking lot. I got out, trying to ignore the looks people were giving us due to Dean's driving... skills.

"I'll be here in ten with food."

I nodded and watched as he sped off. He was such a loser. I mean, yes, I think my big brother is the coolest person alive, but that didn't mean much. I walked up the cement stairs to the front entrance, stopping only to hold the heavy door open for an older woman. Chivalry isn't dead after all, it just transferred in. I made my way to the printer, smiling at the girl working. She was sorting books and smiled back because it was like goddamn Happy Town or something. I plugged the PC in and hit print, watching as the old industrial printer spit out my Dickens essay. I was partial to essay writing. It wasn't my favorite thing in the world, but I liked it a whole lot more than hunting. I hated hunting. Dad seemed to have it in his mind that I was lazy and didn't care about avenging the mother I never met. Half of that was true, I guess. What's dead should stay dead, and it's been 16 years. It was time to just annually visit the gravestone and let me live my high school life, as if it wasn't hard enough for me. Always the nerdy new kid with hand-me-downs that spent lunch in the library because he had no friends. I'd taken my share of beatings from bullies to know it never got easier. If I made a friend, I'd have to leave them, and I hated that. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I wasn't worth all the pain.

Finally, the printer finished on the essay and I shut the laptop down before stapling the papers together. One less thing to worry about.


End file.
